


The Color Of Life Is Red

by Kitty (KutieKitty16)



Series: The Color Of [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Assassin!AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 15:16:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 19,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15318303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KutieKitty16/pseuds/Kitty
Summary: {Sequel to The Color of Death is Blue}Keith and Lance take on the city as a team, searching out the sins in the dark alleys. Their reputation grew from killers to saviors of the innocent- dealing with the rapists, abusers, and murderers the court system set free. Within the gang community, two names were on everyone's lips: Lucifer and his Hellhound. And they were out for a certain Galra's blood.**Rated Mature for: sexual content, graphic depictions of gore, violence, mature language, references to sexual violence**





	1. The Boy

The knife clunked into the wood right in front of the man's groin. Lance smirked under his mask as his eyes shot a cheeky glare into his frightened expression. "I'm gonna ask you again."

The man's voice quivered, bouncing off the walls of the small dark room. A single bulb hung above him, casting down a ray of yellow. His arms and legs were bound in frayed rope and he sat in a creaky wooden chair. Keith leaned against the mucky wall with his arms crossed. His black leather jacket shined in the dim light, adding to his intimidating aura. A red bandana covered his nose and mouth, showing off intense eyes of deep purple.

Lance leaned into the man's face, hand gripping the knife, "How many times?"

His mouth shook, "I don't- I don't know what you're talking about."

"How many times?!" Lance screamed in his face. He yanked the blade out of the chair and slammed it back down, an inch closer. "How many times did you hit your daughter?!"

The man jumped and let out a whimper. Lance moved the knife closer, "How many times did you rape your son?!"

"You better answer him," Keith uncrossed his arms and walked to Lance's side. He stroked his cheek, "You won't like him when he's angry."

Lance raised his chest and pulled the knife from the wood. The man bit his lip and shook his head. He spoke erratically, "It wasn't like that! I just-"

Lance stopped listening and turned to Keith. Nuzzling their masks together, he spoke softly, "He's bullshitting us."

Keith kissed his forehead through his bandana, "Go nuts then."

"You know I love you, right?"

He shrugged, "Of course." His eyes returned to the man, "Finish this quickly and I'll take you to bed."

Lance raised the knife, "You were going to do that anyway." He tore his eyes away from Keith and slammed the knife into the man's jeans.

"Pidge, what's our next assignment?" Keith turned to face her with a hair tie in his mouth, pulling his hair up. He and Lance were dressed up in their black gear.

Her small fingers tapped away at the laptop sitting on her bare legs. The screen reflected off her glasses and a Capri Sun hung from her teeth. She kept her eyes on the screen as she answered, "I've got a case involving a sexually abused five year old."

"Damn," Lance shut his eyes and slowly shook his head, "why can't people just leave their kids alone." His solemn gaze fell to the hardwood, "Katie, who's the monster?"

Pidge turned around and rested her arm on the back of the brown leather couch. Keith's apartment had been renamed 'Keith and Lance's apartment,' but Pidge often stayed there when she was bored or lonely. Shiro had gone off with Coran to continue their previous line of work. The day he left, Keith was distraught. Shiro had been like a brother to him, and the fact that he didn't want to support them was heartbreaking. Gradually, he got over it and clung to Lance. Coran still came around and loved to help when he was needed, but in the end, he was with Shiro.

Keith patted his back and nuzzled their cheeks together. Their hair tangled together in a messy, but sweet braid. "That's where we come in."

Lance pulled away and cocked his gun with one hand, "Motherfuckers should've stayed in hell."

The darkness of the night surrounded them as they sat in the grass, watching the window of a brick house. The chirping of crickets covered the sound of their breaths behind the masks. Lance lied down in the cool grass and watched through the scope of his sniper. Night vision gave him an adequate view of the little boy's room.

"He's clear so far," Lance said, keeping his eye on the scope.

Keith checked his watch, "It should be any hour now."

Lance took a deep breath to calm himself. Their job was difficult and wore down on his heart. He loved to save the innocent and bring justice to the wicked; but when he was hurting people, it was like he was a different person entirely. His entire childhood was spent being afraid of killing anyone, now he would stab a man without hesitation.

He was yanked out of his daydream when the door to the boy's room slammed open. Standing in the light was a dark, larger man with his grip on a bottle. "Shit. He's there."

Keith leaned down next to him, "You know when."

Lance took another breath and watched the scene play out. A comic book blanket covered the boy's shaking frame, hiding his eyes. Lance couldn't let the man touch him. He hovered his sight over the man's head, following as he walked toward the boy. His stomping was heavy and unstable, swaying his body back and forth. Lance panicked a little. He couldn't get a good shot. There was only one chance to get it right, and they couldn't go in the house. If they did, then it would quadruple their chances of getting caught. The man reached for the boy with a drunken arm, still moving way too much to get a clear shot.

Keith placed a worried hand on his shoulder, "Lance...?"

He bit down on his lip hard and steadied his gun. His heart thumped against his rib cage and his throat tightened.  _I'm not gonna make it!_ With a clumsy stumble, the man finally grabbed onto the boy's bed and yanked off his blanket.

Lance tore his eyes away from the scene and leaned into his elbow. Tears soaked through his sleeve as he let out a small sob. "I couldn't take the shot."

That was the most difficult part of a job. Knowing when he had to give up. Lance wanted to save everyone, but sometimes they lose. His stomach twirled with anxiety and his head pounded. He tugged on his hair and rubbed his forehead while he cried.

Keith's arm was placed over his shoulder, "We'll get him next time, alright? Different approach."

Lance took a sharp breath and wiped his eyes. He couldn't yet understand that it was impossible for him to save everyone.


	2. The Past

"When is Mom coming back?"

A bigger man looked down at the small child that spoke to him. His hair was a rough brown and he had a distinct scar through his eyebrow. His skin was tan and his jaw was squared. His dusty honey eyes stared at the boy. He sat on an old couch as he sharpened a blade. Setting the knife aside, he crouched down to the ignorant child.

"Keith, my son," he placed his hands on Keith's shoulders, "Do you know where your mother went?"

Keith's curious wide eyes inspected his father's somber face. He hesitantly shook his head, "No."

He gave him a short smile, then stood with a huff. "Keith, your mom won't be coming back." His voice was laced with a thick southern accent.

"Oh," he lowered his gaze and kicked his shoe. They stood in silence for a few moments before a small voice cut through it. "Why?"

He spun around and met Keith's timid eyes with overwhelming authority. They didn't live in a grand house; it was a rough little cottage out in the desert. They needed to stay hidden away from the world. Keith was dangerous, and it was way too risky for him to be around other people. His chest ached a little, but he would never let his emotions show. He spoke in a stern tone, "She didn't want to be here. With you."

Keith's eyes shimmered, "Why?"

"Because you're too dangerous."

A tear fell from his cheek, "Why?"

He turned away from his son, "You're just different."

The sound of gentle sniffling grabbed his attention and he spun back around, triggered by the fatherly instinct to protect his child. Keith stood in his saggy overalls and worn out shoes. A stuffed rabbit hung from his right hand; and his jet black hair shaded his crying eyes.

Keith brought a thin wrist up to wipe his red cheeks, "I don't wanna be different."

"Do you want blueberry or chocolate chip pancakes?"

Keith was brought out of his daydream by a cheery Lance. He stood at the counter with an orange mixing bowl in his hand, wearing his tiny pink shorts and a grey sweater. He set the bowl on the counter and lowered his voice, "What's wrong?"

"Ah," Keith scratched his head and sat up in the dining chair, "It's nothing."

Lance didn't look convinced, "Are you sure? You don't look so good."

"Yeah," he stood and walked over to him. "Chocolate chip." He kissed his temple and walked into the living room, leaving Lance to his cooking.

Keith sat on the couch with a huff and rubbed his face. A gentle arm was wrapped around his bicep as Lance sat down and cuddled him. He nuzzled his head into Keith's neck with a kiss. "You're not okay."

"Lance, I'm serious."

He placed a hand over Keith's mouth, then let it fall, "But that's alright. You don't need to talk about it." He lifted his head and kissed him gently, "Just don't go through it alone."

Keith's chest warmed, bringing a smile to his face. He cupped Lance's cheek in his hand and stared into his dusty crystal blue eyes. "Please don't leave me."

Lance leaned their foreheads together, "Never. We're a team now."


	3. The Hatred and The Love

Shiro and Coran entered the apartment with a warm hello and handfuls of food. Lance welcomed them and helped set up in the kitchen with Shiro.

Lance glanced at him through the corner of his eyes as he opened one of the opaque plastic bags. "You haven't been here in a while."

Shiro's hands stopped for a second. He gritted his teeth, "Well, I'm here now." He picked up a small tupperware.

Lance leaned one hand on the table and the other on his hip. He rolled his eyes, then returned them to Shiro, "Why are you here? You don't support him."

He didn't stop what he was doing, avoiding Lance's harsh gaze. "I never said that."

Lance's chest burned with anger. He stepped around the corner of the table and shoved Shiro's chest, "You told him he was wrong. That I corrupted him."

Shiro's voice gained momentum, "You fucking did."

"You left him to feel like shit!" He lowered his voice, but the intensity remained, "He looked up to you, he still does." He jabbed his fingers into his shoulder, "You wanna hate me? Fine. Screw you. Just don't hurt him."

Shiro pushed Lance back a few steps in anger. "You convinced him to kill people for fun, not to survive."

Lance leaned into his face, "I convinced him to fight for justice, not selfishness." He eyebrows furrowed, framing malicious eyes of deep blue. "You've got a terrible opinion of me, but Keith loves me. You don't have to like me, but stop being an asshole."

"You don't get to tell me what to do," Shiro spat out.

Lance spoke through his gritted teeth, "Then  _leave_."

They fought with their eyes for a minute, waiting for the other to give in. When Shiro's gaze finally faltered, Lance stepped back and left him to the food, stomping into the living room.

Coran sat next to Pidge on the leather couch, talking with his hands. Keith watched their discussion with confused eyes from the armchair. Lance strode over to him, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear. He sat down on Keith's lap and wrapped his arms around his neck, letting his feet dangle over the armrest.

Keith hugged him with strong arms and kissed his head. "What's up?"

Lance took a long breath, "I just got into a heated conversation with your old partner."

"Oh," his smile faded for a second. Then, brought his hands down to tickle Lance's sides.

Lance laughed playfully as he struggled for mercy. "Keith!"

Keith's tickling ceased and he brought a hand up to Lance's face. He nuzzled their cheeks together and rested his eyes. "Don't hate him too much."

Lance hugged him tighter, "I think I hate him just the right amount."

He kissed behind Lance's ear, "Whatever you say."

"Coran, can I ask you something?" Lance leaned his elbows on his knees as he sat in a dining chair. His fingers laced together and he stared at the ground.

Coran took another bite of his slice of cake, letting the fork dangle from his fingers when he did. "Of course you can."

Lance turned his head to check on the others in the Living room. Shiro and Pidge were messing around with cards and Keith laughed at them. He returned his eyes to the floor. "Is Shiro good to you?"

The fork clinked onto the table as Coran set it down and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He locked eyes with Lance and crossed his legs, "Yes, he is."

"Are you sure?" His eyebrow lowered in anxiety.

He flashed a sweet smile, "I think I'm pretty sure." He reached over to pat Lance's back, "He's a good man. He's just been through a lot."

Lance averted his gaze, "That isn't an excuse to be an asshole, though."

The hand on Lance's shoulder drifted away. "You're right."

Lance turned his head back, "Then-"

He was stopped with a hand, "But he's doing what he thinks is right. I don't have to agree to stand by him."

An ache pulled his chest in and his eyes stung, "Why would you stay with someone like that?"

"Well," he picked up his fork again and took another bite, "You would stay with Keith through anything. It's the same way."

Lance rolled over his words in his mind. Coran was gentle and caring. He would do anything and everything to make sure everyone was alright. But Shiro was spiteful and selective. Lance didn't see a reason for the hatred that he received. Shiro disliked him from the beginning, dumping him on Keith. He didn't expect them to fall in love, though. Was loving Keith a good enough reason to hate him?

Lance took in a frustrated breath and fluffed his hair, "Yeah, you're right."


	4. The Clue

With Lance's chest and hands against the shower wall, Keith's hands could stroke down his back and thighs with ease. The hot room was filled with steam and obnoxious moans. Water rained from Lance's hair and down his flushed cheeks. His veins were filled with an intense high that had become his drug of choice. Lance let out a sharp moan as Keith hit a sensitive spot.

Keith leaned forward to kiss the back of Lance's neck, "Is that good, baby?"

Lance's chest jumped at the sound of his husky voice. Every word brought a pleasurable shock to his body; every touch transferred a wave of blazing energy. He bit his lip and whimpered out an 'mm-hmm.'

Lance felt Keith's breath on his skin as he chuckled. His hands found their place on Lance's hipbones, digging his fingers into his skin. Lance's breath hitched in his throat as Keith's speed increased with lustful intensity. With every hit, Lance's moans got louder. He cried out one last time as he came, Keith following soon after him. Gasps tore through his throat and filled the air.

-

Pidge burst through the front door with her computer in her arms, "Guys, guys! I've got news!"

Lance looked over to her from the couch. Notebooks and papers littered the floor and leather around him. "What's up, Katie?"

Pidge slipped over and jumped onto the couch across from him, opening the screen of her laptop. "You're gonna wanna see this." Her small fingers tapped away at the keyboard.

Keith walked over to Pidge's side, towel wrapped around his neck. Lance carefully combed through the papers and set them aside as he got up to join them. Pidge looked to both of them, "I found something."

They leaned over her to view the computer screen. Lance spoke up, "What did you fi-"

Pidge shushed him with a hand, "I picked up a certain someone on a security cam on the coast." She clicked on a file and played a video. "Tell me whatcha think."

The video was dark; a greenish tone highlighted the screen. A man snuck around a shipyard, scanning the area. Crouching low and finding cover, he stopped with his back to metal. Lance carefully inspected his clothing. A suit of black and purple covered his body. He held a black bag in his left hand. With a quick look around the corner, then slipped off-screen.

Lance took a deep breath to calm his aching chest. The memory of his last visit to a Galra base flooded his brain. He recalled every detail of the dreary, green hallways and muddy floors. The scary look Shiro gave him when they heard Keith scream. Every detail of Keith's torture- the nails, the blood, the cries. A hand on Lance's shoulder shook him from his daze.

"You alright?" Keith gave him a concerned look.

Lance wanted to tell him, he really did. But that wouldn't have done any good. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired."

Keith flashed a half-hearted smile, then turned to Pidge. "Have anything else?"

She raised a finger in excitement, "Actually, I do." She continued her typing. The screen reflected on her large glasses. "When I first saw the footage, I thought that it would be a dead end. Since the Galra have gone silent, there has been no activity from them- or so we thought. But if you look at these-"

Lance looked at what she was pointing to. It was a log of some sort.

"These are all the shipments that have come in and out of the coast. Everything looks normal when you just look, but right here-" her finger traced several names, "These don't match up."

Lance gasped in realization, "They've been trading."

Pidge leaned back and crossed her arms in satisfaction. Keith whipped the towel off his neck and walked toward the bedroom, "Where are they now?"

"From talking to a couple people and combing through some documents and security footage, I think I've found a small hideout." She snatched a business card and pen off the coffee table. "This is the address." She wrote on the back of the card and handed it to Lance.

"This is great, Katie." Lance flashed her a smile.

Pidge stood and closed her laptop, setting it on the table, "Well, when are we gonna check it out?"

Keith exited the room in his black clothes and boots, "We can go tonight. Pidge, you'll stay here and monitor."

With a dramatic salute, she let out a "Yes sir!"

Keith walked over to Lance, slipping his gloves onto his hands. "Go get ready." He kissed his temple.

Lance gave him a smile, then headed to the bedroom. "Let's get this fucker."


	5. The Soldier

_You're gonna want to go around the back, it's less conspicuous that way._

Lance pulled his coat tighter around him, covering his gear. "Roger that, Pidge. Lucifer what's your ETA?"

_Two minutes._

The streets were dark and damp. Steam rose from various buildings and drunks stumbled over the sidewalks. Chilly air stung Lance's cheeks. A shiver ran through his arms, causing him to bury his head into his blue scarf.

Keith sounded from his earpiece,  _This has got to be the most amateur thing I've ever done._

 _That's why we're doing it._ Pidge's snarky voice retorted.  _No one is gonna expect it. Hellhound, take a right into that alley._

Lance rolled his eyes, "Oh yeah Pidge, I'll just walk right into this creepy alley."

_Shut up asswipe. Do what I say._

He turned the corner to find a person standing at the other end. Lance's shoes scraped the dirty concrete as he stopped.

_Hello there darling._

A smile formed on Lance's face and he resumed walking, "Hello, my love."

Pidge gagged through the earpiece,  _You guys are gross._

Lance chuckled at her comment as he finally reached Keith. They gave each other cocky looks and put their masks on. Keith placed a finger on his ear and scanned the alley, "Pidge, where is he now?"

_He's gonna be there in about forty-five seconds, so you guys should hide._

Lance took shelter behind a pile of metal and cardboard; Keith crouched behind a dumpster. Keith pulled out a pistol from inside his jacket, "Bring the car around, this will be quick."

 _Roger that_.

They shared a nod as Lance grabbed his own pistol. It wasn't long until he heard the sound of heavy boots enter the alleyway. Lance peeked through the pile of rubbish. The man lit a cigarette and inconspicuously scanned the area. After pacing a few steps, he threw the cigarette down. Keith mouthed 'one, two, three' and they charged him. Lance aimed his gun at him while Keith pulled him back into a headlock, pistol to his temple.

The car pulled up from where Lance had entered. Lance grabbed the man's hands, handcuffed him, and slipped a dark sack over his head. Keith motioned to the car with his head, "Let's go."

They brought the man to a hideout for the interrogation. A bulb dangled over his head; and he sat chained to a rusty chair. Lance pulled a cart of tools across from him. He ripped off the bag to an annoyed expression. Lance spoke behind his mask, "We know you're Galra. We just want to ask you a few questions."

The man locked intense eyes with Lance and Keith. Lance tossed the bag to the side, "What? You look like you wanna say something."

He didn't answer, continuing to stare at them.

"Alright," Lance shrugged and drug a chair across the floor, spinning it around. He sat backwards, crossing his arms over the back. "How about you tell us your name."

His eyes twitched as he lowered them, "Hachi."

"Hachi," Lance repeated. He shared a look with Keith, who shrugged. "Okay," he turned back to Hachi, "You wanna tell us where you guys have been?"

His dusty brown hair framed his face; a few strands fell over his eyes. He kept his mouth shut.

Lance stood with a huff, "So that's how it's going to be." He shoved the chair away and turned around to the cart. His eyes drifted over the various metals. With a flip of the hammer, he turned back to Hachi. "Here's the thing, I'm not patient." He pointed the hammer at Hachi's nose, "Nor am I afraid of hurting you. So, I'm gonna ask you one more time, where have you guys been?"

He stared at the hammer for a moment, then locked eyes with Lance. "Oh, I see." He leaned back, "Look who it is: Lucifer and his puppy."

Lance smirked under his mask when he realized Hachi wasn't going to give an answer. He glanced over at Keith, who continued to watch with his arms crossed and back to the wall. Honestly, Lance didn't want to hurt him. It wasn't fulfilling. If he's going to have to hurt Hachi, then he might as well torture Keith too.

Lance set down the hammer to remove his vest. Ignoring Keith's questioning eyes, he turned back to Hachi. "You see, Hachi," Lance placed his knees on the chair and sat down in Hachi's lap, resting an arm on his shoulder. He held the hammer in his other hand, waving it as he talked. "You seem like a nice guy. I'm thankful."

Hachi's eyes examined Lance's body on him. He gulped and tried not to stare, but failed miserably. Lance felt Keith's eyes burn into his back. He smirked and brought his free hand back to remove his mask. It fell to the floor with a soft thud.

"Hellhound," Keith warned.

Lance ignored him, "Hachi, I need to know what the Galra have been doing all this time."

"I can't," Hachi pried his eyes away from Lance's thighs, "I won't tell you."

Lance shrugged, "Well, that's a shame." He braced himself with a hand on Hachi's shoulder and turned around. Lance swung the hammer into the air and brought it down on Hachi's bound wrist.

Hachi screamed at the pain, throwing his head back. With his chest bound to the back of the chair, his movement was restricted. He launched his chest forward in an attempt to reach Lance.

Lance leaned back with a hyper laugh, "Woah!" Blood from Hachi's hand dropped onto Lance's boot. "You're feisty!" He waited a few seconds to let him calm down, then spoke over his pained gasps. "Where are your friends, Hachi?"

Hachi breathed through his gritted teeth, "Go to hell."

Lance let out a cute giggle, "Again, I guess!" He tossed the hammer to his other hand and crushed Hachi's other wrist. While he wailed, two arms wrapped around Lance's waist and pulled him off the chair.

Keith threw him down away from them and brought a leg up to kick Hachi in the chest. The chair fell back with a screeching thud. Lance held a hand to his chest as he watched Keith crouch over the terrified man. He clutched Hachi's shirt and pulled him up to his face. Lance could tell he was pissed.

Keith spoke through his red bandana, "That's quite enough of checking out my man." His voice was low and sharp. "Tell me where they are before I chop your dick off and choke you with it."

Hachi whimpered with fear and pain, but kept his mouth shut. Keith brought a fist up and punched him hard, "You got the nice one! Now you've got me!"

Hachi took a number of punches as Keith let his frustration out on him. Even through all of that, he still refused to speak. Keith shoved him back down onto the concrete and stood up. "I'm done with this." He pulled his pistol out of the holder on his thigh and pointed it down at him.

"Wait! Wait! I'll talk!" Hachi pleaded with him.

Lance finally stood and brushed himself off. Keith screamed at Hachi, "Where are they?!"

"They're hiding out in a safe house on the coast! Zarkon's been focusing on the drug trade with Panther!"

Lance walked over and crouched down to his side, "Panther? I thought drugs weren't the Galra's forté."

Hachi turned to Lance, "It was the best way to stay hidden."

"What have you been smuggling?"

"Man," he gasped for breath. Blood covered his broken nose. "Everything. Heroin, Weed, Opium, Coke, LSD- even Krokodil."

Keith readjusted his aim at his head, "Thanks for the info-"

Lance stopped him with a hand. They argued with their eyes for a minute until Keith put his gun back into its holder and stepped off of him. He stormed over to the door and waited for Lance with his arms crossed.

Lance turned back to Hachi, "Thank you." He stood and picked up the chair, returning it to an upright position. He knelt down and readjusted the restraints on Hachi's body. "You'll stay here. We're monitoring through cameras, so don't try anything."

"Princess, let's go." Keith's voice was whiny and irritated.

Lance snatched his mask from the ground and walked over to join Keith. As they exited, Keith threw an arm over Lance's shoulder and shot a death glare back at Hachi.


	6. The Ring

Lance watched Keith from the kitchen. He was sitting on the couch, reading over piles of papers. Records and photos littered the area around him. Bags had formed under his eyes and his mouth was stuck in a permanent frown. Lance returned his gaze to the coffee cup, stirring it. It was probably around three a.m. and Keith hadn't slept in days.

The spoon tapped the side of the mug as Lance finished preparing it. He walked over to Keith's side and held the coffee out for him. He looked up to him and set down the stack of papers to take the mug. Lance carefully maneuvered around the piles to find a spot next to Keith. He leaned onto his shoulder and hugged his arm. With closed eyes, he spoke in a relaxed, but worried, tone. "Are you ever gonna come to bed?"

He picked up a different stack of papers and combed through them, "I've gotta find something, Princess."

Lance stayed there for a few moments, then let go and stood to grab his coat. He faced away from Keith as he spoke. "Do you even like this life?"

The sound of paper stopped. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he hesitated, "Is this really what you want?"

The leather of the couch crinkled as Keith stood and walked up behind him. He wrapped his arms around Lance, "I want  _you_." He kissed his hair. "Did Shiro say something?"

Lance took a deep breath, "No. it's nothing." He broke the hug to put his jacket on. He walked into the bathroom and grabbed a leather bag.

Keith watched him with curious eyes, "Where are you going?"

Lance picked up a small brown bag from the kitchen counter. "To care for our prisoner."

Keith held up a finger, "Oh, no you don't."

He stopped, "What? Why?"

Keith put his hands on his hips, " _Why?_ You were all over him!"

"Oh my god," Lance turned and stomped to the door.

"Lance!"

He put his hand on the doorknob, "What I gonna do? Kiss him? He'd die. He needs to be taken care of so that he  _doesn't_ die."

Keith started toward the door, "Lance I swear to god if you-"

Lance shook his head in frustration and slammed the door behind him.

Hachi greeted him with a snarky laugh, "Well, well. What do we have here?"

Lance set down the bags next to the chair. "You're quite cocky for someone who's gotten the shit beat out of them."

He chuckled, "Touché, Princess."

Lance smacked him hard with his gloved hand. "Don't ever call me that."

The hit took him by surprise and he blinked a few times to register what happened. Lance reached into the leather bag and took out a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Hachi watched him curiously, "Why don't you tell me your name then?"

Lance retrieved a towel from the bag, "Hellhound."

"No, your real name."

He raised an eyebrow at him, opening the bottle of alcohol. "Are you telling me that 'Hachi' is  _your_ real name?"

Hachi pursed his lips in thought, then shrugged. "Alright, I get it."

Lance tied a rope around his elbow and dirty armrest; then another one around his forearm. He flipped open a knife, "You gonna try and punch me when I cut these?"

"Not with my arm tied down like this."

Lance sighed and cut off the rope around Hachi's wrist. He set down the knife and picked up the bottle of alcohol, "This is gonna sting."

Hachi sucked in breath through his teeth as Lance poured it onto his mutilated wrist. Then, Lance dabbed the towel on it.

Hachi eyed him suspiciously, "Why are you helping me? Trying to gain my trust?"

"Actually, no." Lance started to wrap bandages around the wounds. Scissors sat between his teeth, "I'm not sure how long we will keep you, but-" he retrieved the scissors to cut the gauze, "-it would be troublesome if you died before we wanted you to."

Lance replaced a piece of rope to Hachi's wrist and tied it back down. He reached into the small paper bag and grabbed a granola bar. He unwrapped it and stuck it in Hachi's mouth. Then, he moved to his other wrist.

After Hachi successfully ate the bar with no hands, he eyed Lance. "You're really strange. You know that, right?"

Lance continued wrapping his wrist, "Oh yeah. I definitely am." He returned all his supplies to the bag and rechecked all the ropes.

"Seriously, though." Hachi turned his head to keep his eyes on Lance, "What's the thing with you and Lucifer?"

He didn't establish any eye contact, "What do you mean?"

"Are you guys," he trailed off with a curious smile, "you know."

Lance finally looked at him after checking all the ties, "Are we what?"

"Are you guys fuckin'?"

Lance gave him a raise eyebrow, then pulled out a water bottle and straw. "Does that even matter?" He held it to Hachi's mouth.

He took a sip, "I mean, kind of. I'm bored in here." He took another drink. "Might as well find some sort of entertainment."

Lance pulled the bottle away and returned it to the bag.

Hachi waited for an answer that never came. "Come on, Princess."

Lance unholstered his gun and shot Hachi's foot.

Hachi yelled in pain, "God damn it!"

"I told you not to call me that." Lance returned his pistol to his thigh and removed his glove. "And yes," he held up his hand, showing off a shiny gold ring on his finger. "We're engaged."


	7. The Kitten

"Momma! Look!" A young Keith frolicked about the dusty ground, kicking up small clouds of pale brown. A wooden plane was held high above his head. His black hair shined in the desert sun; the wind whipped his dirty overalls and red sleeves.

A woman with short dark hair and winged eyeliner looked up from her book. A basket of bread and fruit hung from her arm. Her knee-length dark orange dress flapped in the wind. She smiled at her son, "That's so cool, Keith!"

Keith ran further, jumping up to let the plane soar higher. "Momma! Look it g-" Keith fell into the dirt with a grunt. The plane crashed into the sand, rolling to a stop.

Keith's mother jogged over to him, "Oh, Keith! Are you alright?"

Keith got up on his hands and knees, looking at his plane. His eyes slowly rose to find a cat sniffing it. It crouched low, hesitantly inspecting the strange object. Keith was pulled up and dusted off. He pointed to the cat, "Momma look! It's a kitty!"

She looked to where he was pointing. "Yes it is!" She smiled at him, then reached into her basket. She pulled out a small piece of jerky, handing it to her son. "See if it will eat."

Keith happily took it and walked toward the kitten. When it noticed him, it trotted up to his hand. Keith held his hand flat to let it take the meat. After it ate, Keith reached over and picked it up. The kitten purred and rubbed her face into Keith's. "Momma can we keep it?" Keith laughed.

Keith's mother wore a warm smile. She walked up to him, placing a hand on his back. "Of course we can. Papa loves cats, too."

Keith trotted up to the house, the cat bouncing in his arms. "Papa! Look!"

Keith's father stood up from his small garden and wiped his forehead. He rubbed the dirt off his hands, "Keith, my boy!"

Keith ran up to him with a wide grin, "Look!"

"Well, what do we have here?" He crouched down to Keith's level. Keith handed him the cat, which he took and held close. "What's his name, son?"

Keith's face dropped as he thought about it. His mother caught up to them, kissing his father on the cheek. "We found the poor thing all alone out there."

Keith gasped in realization, "It's name is Dirt!"

"Dirt," his father repeated with a chuckle. He turned to Keith's mother, "His name is Dirt."

They laughed at their cute son as Keith tugged on his father's jacket. His mother held out a hand to him, "Come on now, Keith. Let's go make some dinner."

Keith took it, "Can Dirt come?"

"Yes, he can. He needs dinner, too!"

Dirt stayed around the house, happily eating all his meals and chasing mice. He loved when Keith pet him; he slept in his lap and purred loudly. One day, Keith was playing with a wooden car in the sand when Dirt trotted over to him. Keith's mother watched from a chair as she sewed patches and buttons into their worn clothes. Keith giggled and threw his car to the side so he could pet him.

The cat was dusty from all the sand, but happy as can be. Keith fell back on his butt to allow him to climb into his lap. Dirt reached up to sniff his face, rubbing their cheeks together. Keith's giggling continued. He carefully grabbed Dirt's cheeks and kissed the top of his head.

It took Keith a moment to realize that Dirt wasn't touching him anymore. He opened his eyes and watched him curiously. Dirt had recoiled, slowly lowering his body to the ground, then falling on his side. Keith's mother had watched the scene from her chair. "Keith!"

She jumped up to cover Keith's eyes and stand him up. Keith put his hands on the cover, "Momma?"

She watched the cat with horror as it twitched and convulsed. Soon, Dirt stopped moving.

"Momma?"

She looked down at Keith, then back at the cat.

Keith gasped and jumped up as he woke from the dream. With a hand to his chest, he caught his breath with strained wheezing. Lance sat up next to him, "Hey, baby. What's wrong?"

Keith blinked the sleep from his eyes and shook his head. "Just, um," he turned to look at him. He gently ran his fingers over Lance's lips. "It's nothing. Just a bad dream."

"About what?" He took Keith's hand and placed it on his cheek.

"About," Keith felt energy and warmth fill him from Lance's touch, "A-uh-a memory from my childhood."


	8. The Fight

Lance heaved his luggage into the back of Keith's red car. He situated it to fit around Keith's and leave some extra room. The chilly autumn air nipped at his skin and twirled his hair. Lance turned around to look at the trees, crossing his arms to conserve heat. The colors that were barely visible the last few months had quickly brightened. Waves of oranges, browns, reds, and yellows filled the trees and rested on the ground.

Keith called to Pidge as he walked to the car, more luggage in hand. "Don't you dare!"

Pidge ran out after him with an evil laugh, "I will!"

Lance shook his head with a smile and joined them by the car. The evening sun shone down in a way that highlighted their joy. It made their smiles bigger, their hair brighter, their faces softer. For a moment, Lance felt truly at peace. But in his life, happiness doesn't stay long. Flashes of Keith's torture strobed through his head.

Keith jumped onto Lance, wrapping his arms around him. He whispered into his ear with a soothing voice. "Shh, you're alright."

Lance took a deep breath and hugged him back. Another pair of arms hugged around the two of them with a giggle. "I'm here too, losers!"

It was like they were a family. Like the one Lance broke many years before. He broke the hug with a smile, "Alright guys, let's hit the road. It's a two hour drive."

Pidge sprawled across the back seat with her computer on her lap and headphones on. Keith drove with one hand on the wheel and one being used as a pillow by Lance.

"Hey, baby." Keith got Lance's attention.

Lance looked up to him from the middle console. "What?"

Keith struggled to say what he wanted, "I think we need to talk about the fight."

Lance closed his eyes and snuggled his cheek into Keith's hand, "What about it?"

"I mean, just-" he took his hand from Lance's grasp.

Lance pushed himself up and stared at where Keith's hand had just been.

"I just wanted to apologize." He kept his eyes on the road. "I know I overreacted. But,"

Lance sat back in the seat, giving him a questioning look. "But what?"

He ran a hand through his hair, "I just get really worried about you leaving me."

Lance scrunched his eyebrows together, "You think I'm gonna leave you?"

Keith glanced at him for a second, "No, I just-" He returned his eyes to the road and rested his head on his elbow. "I worry sometimes."

A small flame lit in Lance's chest. "Why would you worry?" His voice turned sharp.

Keith picked his head up and talked with his hand, "Because I just-"

"Do you think I'm some kind of whore?"

"No!" Keith let out a frustrated huff, "Of course not."

Lance's eyes stung, "I accepted the ring, didn't I? Isn't that enough proof? What more do you want?"

"Lance, I'm not saying you  _will_ leave. I'm just worried I will lose you."

His face scrunched up in anger, "That  _you'll_ lose  _me_?" He tapped his chest with his fingertips, "Did you forget that I almost lost  _you_?"

Keith ran a tense hand through his hair, "That's not the sa-"

"I watched you  _die_ , Keith."

He opened his mouth to respond, but couldn't find the words. Lance turned away from him and leaned against the window, "I'm just gonna sleep. I'm really tired."

The hotel room was big, holding two beds. Pidge pushed them to the side and ran over to claim the bed away from the window. "This one's mine." She pointed to them with a dramatic finger, "No funny business."

Lance chuckled as he tossed his suitcase onto the other bed. "Sure, Katie." He pointed to the desk by the small couch, "Go set up your little center."

"Yup." She jumped up to grab her computer bag.

Keith and Lance unpacked their bags in silence. Lance ignored all the looks Keith gave him. He knew that he wanted to talk, but that was the last thing Lance wanted to do right then. After unpacking the bags, Keith finally said something.

"Listen, Lance-I" he stopped.

Lance turned to look at him. He spoke low enough to keep Pidge from hearing. "I- I just-" He sighed. "I just want to sleep." He lied down on the bed and curled up in the blankets, "We have a long day tomorrow."


	9. The Time Was 4:04

"Lance, come get your ice cream!"

A chubby woman with bright cheeks called to her son from the kitchen, holding a blue ice cream bar. A young Lance trotted through the hallway, excited for his treat. When he reached her, he tugged on her shirt and jumped for it. She brought it down to his small hands, "Here you go, m'ijo."

Lance took a big lick, "Thank you, Mama!"

_"Momma look! It's a kitty!"_

She ruffled his hair, "Keep this a secret, Lance."

He turned to walk off, "Sí Mama!"

Lance often got secret treats from his mother. Being an only child had its perks. He lazily walked through the house, taking dramatic steps as he licked the ice cream. When he looked up, he found himself outside at the garage. A smile formed on his face as he saw his father. "Papa! Look what I got!"

_"Papa look!"_

Lance's father looked up from a table he was building. "Wow, you got a little treat!"

He skidded to a stop beside him, "Yeah." His eyes fell to the wood, "What are you doing?"

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, "I'm building this table for the neighbors."

"Hmm," Lance trailed off. He felt the warm air and beating sun. It was comforting to him. "Papa?"

He leaned back down to continue his work, "Yes, m'ijo?"

He stared out at the Cuban landscape. A small, black cat trotted around the dirt. "Do you like cats?"

_"Papa loves cats, too."_

"Well," he brushed off the table, "I don't hate them. But I don't like them either."

Lance watched the cat chase a leaf down the dirt road. He perked back up and turned back to his father. "Papa, can I help?"

_One day, Keith was playing with a wooden car in the sand when Dirt trotted over to him._

Lance loved his life. His friends were fun to hang around with; one even had a dog. Through the week, his mother often taught him about cooking or other countries; she often told him stories of strange people in foreign lands. One day, he was wandering through the house and yard, kicking around rocks or snatching a couple snacks. He was on his old wooden swing when he heard his mother call for him.

 _Keith's mother watched from a chair as she sewed patches and buttons into their worn clothes_.

"Coming Mama!" Lance jumped down from the swing, stumbling from the jump. He ran inside to find her. She was mixing something in a bowl. She turned to face him, "Would you like to help me?"

Lance flashed a wide smile and nodded his head, "Yeah!"

_Keith giggled and threw his car to the side so he could pet him._

"Go to that step-stool and clean those green beans."

Lance happily stepped up and did as he was told. He loved when he got to help his mother. She always told him how to cook, but it was rare that he actually got to. After a few minutes, she came over to check on his progress.

 _Dirt reached up to sniff his face, rubbing their cheeks together. Keith's giggling continued_.

"Great job, m'ijo!" She kissed his head and ruffled his hair.

He turned around and looked up to her with wide eyes, "Can I help with the other stuff?"

 _He carefully grabbed Dirt's cheeks and kissed the top of his head_.

She gave him a warm smile and rubbed his chin, stroking his cheek with her thumb. "Of course you can."

Lance leaned into his mother's touch. After a second, it quickly left him.

 _It took Keith a moment to realize that Dirt wasn't touching him anymore. He opened his eyes and watched him curiously_.

Lance opened his eyes to his mother clutching her throat. She gasped as her throat gurgled. Her other hand clutched the counter. Blood fell poured through her fingers, falling onto the counter and floor. She stumbled into the living room, reaching for the door.

 _Dirt had recoiled, slowly lowering his body to the ground, then falling on his side_.

Lance watched her in stunned silence as she fell to the ground. With a few twitches, she stopped moving. Lance's father walked into the house after hearing dishes clatter and break.

"María!" He dropped down to her side, checking for any signs of life. As he scanned the room, he noticed Lance standing on the step-stool. "Lance!"

Lance jumped at the shout, coming out of his shock. His father ran up to him, "What happened?!" He grabbed Lance's face and shook him, "What did you do?!"

 _Keith's mother had watched the scene from her chair. "Keith!_ "

Lance didn't know what to do. He didn't have any time to react as his father jumped back and clutched his chest. Lance jumped off the stool and yanked his father's shirt. "Papa!"

_"Momma?"_

"Papa!" As much as Lance cried out, his father still struggled. He reached out to his wife. After a few moments of struggling, he fell back next to her.

_"Momma?"_

"Papa!" Lance shook his leg, but received no response. He turned to his mother's body, "Mama!"

_She watched the cat with horror as it twitched and convulsed. Soon, Dirt stopped moving._

Blood soaked into the floor. Lance never received an answer to his screams. Tears spilled out of his eyes, "Mama! Papa!"

He crawled back and leaned against the counter, pulling his knees up to his chest and hiding his face. The air was filled with sniffles and cries. Lance rocked back and forth, unsure of what to do. He mumbled to himself for hours, "Mama. Papa."


	10. The Shipyard

The mission was simple: sneak onto the cargo ship, locate the Galra's information, get the hell out. Compared to their previous tasks, that wasn't hard. But in action, it was a lot more complicated. The instructions assumed that no Galra members would be watching. If even one spotted them, it would ruin the entire thing. So rules were established.

Pidge sat at the desk, her laptop open and a map spread over the table. Lance watched with crossed arms as Keith explained. He placed his hands on the map, "Rule one: don't be fucking seen. Rule two: when I say abort, you get your ass out.

"Rule three: of we have to kill a Galra, we terminate the mission. No negotiation. Rule four-"

"You have a lot of rules," Pidge swung the chair from side to side using the toe of her green converse.

Keith gave her an annoyed look and continued, "Rule four: in the event that one of us gets hurt, Pidge," he pointed to her, "You direct us out of there."

She raised an unamused eyebrow, "What if someone dies?"

"That's not gonna happen."

"But what if it-"

"We don't leave them." Lance joined the conversation, "If we leave the body, it will add the survivors to the Galra hit list." He motioned to Pidge with his shoulder, "They don't know we have Katie." He made eye contact with Keith, "And they don't know you're alive."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Was it simple? Very simple. Risky? Way too risky.

Pidge sat up with a dramatic grunt, "Well, it's now or never. You guys need to get going."

Lance scanned the shipyard with careful eyes. It was dark and the air was filled with a salty mist. Sparse yellow lights framed the poorly lit dock. He whispered to Keith through his mask, "I don't see anyone."

He walked beside him, "Me either." He motioned forward with his head, "That's the ship."

Sneaking onto the boat wasn't hard. In fact, it was too easy. Lance and Keith weaved their way through the various cargo. They didn't see anyone. Lance squinted in suspicion, "Lucifer, this isn't right."

Keith kept his eyes ahead as they talked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, there's no one." He continued his search. "Like, at all."

"And?"

He stopped walking and waited for Keith. After a few more steps, Keith noticed he wasn't behind him. He turned around and gave him a questioning look. Lance took in a sharp breath, "I think this is a trap. It's way too easy."

Keith rubbed his forehead, "Yeah, I know."

"Should we abort?" Lance waited for an answer that took forever to come.

After a solid minute, Keith responded. "No. Let's continue." He turned to continue walking.

Lance followed. One thing he learned through his job was to always be on the same page. If Keith said to continue, they did. They were a team. Lance remembered their fight. He hated being angry with Keith. It wasn't like he had a real reason; he just wanted to be angry.

Keith walked up to a door, crouching down to pick the lock. Lance stayed on lookout as he opened it.

"I'm in," Keith pushed it open with a sputtered creak.

Lance eyed his surroundings suspiciously. It was  _way too easy_. He turned and entered the room. It was a small office; papers and folders lied on every surface- including the floor. Keith thumbed through the filing cabinet in the corner as Lance watched for any Galra. He kept his eyes on the outside as he spoke. "Lucifer, this is a trap."

"Keep quiet, I found the folder."

Lance bit his lip to keep his mouth shut. He took a quick look over his shoulder at Keith. He held a flashlight in his mouth as he frantically searched through the file. With a deep breath, Lance stepped out of the room and walked around the outside of the office. He still couldn't find anyone. But something was off. He could feel it in his stomach.

Lance spoke into his earpiece, "Hey Lucifer, have you found the-"

Lance's speech was cut off by a towel around his throat. A hand took his earpiece out and crushed it under their boot. Lance struggled, kicking back and pushing away. Whoever held him wasn't letting go. Lance was pulled back away from where Keith was. His boots scraped the metal floor as he tried to find adequate footing. Suddenly, he was thrown down and knocked out with a quick punch to the temple.


	11. The Ex-Partner

Keith burst through the door of the hotel room. "Lance better be here or I swear to god!"

Pidge stood with her hands up in defense. "Keith, I didn't see-"

Keith grabbed her shoulders, "Where is he?!"

Her voice trembled with worry and regret. Her wide eyes sparkled with panic as they stared at the angry Keith. She spoke cautiously, barely audible. "They got him."

Keith took a couple strained breaths, collecting his thoughts and processing what he just heard. He calmed his voice, hardening it to hide his anxiety. "Is he alive?"

Pidge's eyes shimmered. She shook her head, "I don't know."

Keith shook her by the arms, "You were supposed to watch him!"

"I know!" She sobbed.

"What the fuck were you doing?!"

"I know!" She screamed back at him, tears streaming down her face.

Keith shoved her back and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He listened to Pidge's broken sobs as he paced, searching for a solution. A small, timid voice sounded from the office chair.

"I'm so sorry."

Keith's chest burned with anger, "You should be!"

She sat with her elbows on her knees, covering her face with her hands.

He jabbed a finger at the door, "That's my fiancé out there! It was your job to keep us safe- to keep  _him_ safe!"

Pidge screamed back at him, "I know!" She cried harder, filling the room with regret and heartbreak.

Keith stared at her as her chest jerked and her tears soaked into the carpet. His head was so muddled with anger that he forgot that she had never dealt with anything like this. Pidge was young and new to the situation. Keith tore his eyes away with a disappointed grunt and rested his head against the wall. "The last thing I said to him was to be quiet."

What was he supposed to do?  _Remember your training._ He repeated the phrase over and over. The only thing Shiro taught him was to forget whoever was taken.  _Fuck my training._ Keith spun around to face the crying Pidge. "Get Shiro on the phone."

She sniffled and wiped her cheeks with her wrist, "But it's four a.m, I don't think he-"

"Right now, Pidge!"

She pulled out her cellphone and dialed the number. She put the phone to her ear and waited. After a minute, she took it away with a head shake and dialed again.

Keith rushed over and snatched the phone from her hand, calling Shiro himself. He had to call three times before he answered. His voice was groggy.

_Hello?_

Keith's face lit up with a small rush of excitement, "Shiro?"

There was a pause,  _Keith?_

"Yes! We need you!" He paced around the room. "Lance was taken and we were on a mission and I don't know what I'm supposed to-"

_Leave him._

Keith stopped in his tracks, "What?"

_Leave him. Remember what I taught you? If you go after him, then you risk dying yourself- or losing more men._

Keith could hear Coran's voice in the background. Shiro said something to him, then returned to their conversation.  _It's not worth it._

Keith's chest sunk and his stomach turned. His voice broke as he choked out an answer. "Leave him?" His throat closed and he had to force it to open, "That's the love of my life you're talking about."

_Keith, I'm sorry, but-_

Tears spilled from his eyes, "Please Shiro!" His breath was strained and sporadic. "I won't live without him! I'm begging you! Please!"

Shiro was silent for a while as Keith sniffled and sobbed.  _You guys are absolute fucking morons._ He paused.

Keith's heart hammered against his rib cage as the seconds felt like years.

_But I'll help you bring him back._

He let out a huge sigh of relief, "Thank you, Shiro!"

 _Yeah, yeah. Whatever._ Coran's voice sounded from the phone,  _We'll be there Keith!_


	12. The Poker Game

Lance lied on his side on the dirty carpet floor clutching his stomach and trying to stay awake. He was chained by his bare ankles to a pole off to the side of a game room. A poker table sat in the middle, about ten feet away. A bar sat on the far wall. The room was dim and musty; the carpet was worn and covered in grime. The walls were wrapped in a peeling dull green and gold.

Lance was alone for now. His last visit had been maybe an hour or two before. He was hungry. He was tired. And most of all, he was lonely. Keith filled most of his thoughts, even when the Galra had their way with him. They never removed his mask and Lance wasn't sure why. Maybe they didn't want to look at the face of their victim. Maybe they liked to see him struggle to breathe. Either way, the mask stayed on. He tried to take it off once, but that only resulted in being shocked with a long pole.

A bang bounced off the walls as the door opened and five Galra members entered. Lance stayed as still as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was bring attention to himself. He watched the men serve each other drinks and set up the poker table. The clattering of poker chips and shuffling of cards filled the once silent space. They clinked their bottles together and lit cigarettes.

One of the members sat back in his chair and took a swig of his beer. Lance knew that one well- his name was Marble. He was shorter, but muscular and a major asshole. The last thing he was afraid of was hurting Lance. The Galra that dealt was tall and thin with scraggly hair and wrinkled hands. His name was Dennis. Two female Galra laughed and pushed each other around. That was Ginger and Basil. The last one was an average guy with dusty brown hair and full sleeve tattoos. He looked a little like Hachi, possibly a brother or cousin. His name was Favio. 

Dennis was one of the only two in that room that never laid a hand on Lance. He either ignored him or discouraged the others' behavior. He shot a quick look at Lance, acknowledging his existence. Lance cursed him out in his head for drawing attention. Marble noticed his subtle glance and looked over to the corner of the room. He leaned onto his knees, "Hello there, Puppy."

Lance made eye contact with him, shooting a hateful glare. He held his hands up in defense, then set down his beer. "Woah there! How about we play around a little?"

Lance's chest sunk and his head spun as Marble stood and walked over to him. Lance shut his eyes as he unhooked his chains. He clipped a metal choker chain around Lance's neck and tugged him up. Lance felt his sore muscles strain against the cold air as he walked. He had been stripped and changed into a black tank top and short floral skirt- both of which were dirty and torn. The collar squeezed his throat closed when pulled, preventing adequate breathing.

Marble tugged him over to the table and down onto his lap. Lance's bare feet scraped the scratchy carpet, making walking extremely uncomfortable. The collar held him down on Marble as he continued to play. Lance didn't pay attention to the game- instead searching the room for a plan of escape. A hand suddenly yanked his hair back. Marble's dirty cigarette breath warmed Lance's ear, "Don't you try anything."

Lance immediately elbowed him in the crotch. He shouted in pain and tugged Lance's chain leash down to hit his forehead on the table. He pulled him back up by the hair and yelled in his ear, "You try that again, you little slut!"

Lance's whimpers bounced off his mask as he let Marble react. After a moment of angry grunts, he finally released his grip on Lance's hair. Favio snuffed out his cigarette, "Let me have a turn."

Marble shoved Lance off his lap, causing him to fall and scrape his knees on the carpet. Favio reached a hand down from his chair across the table. "Come here," he coaxed in a sweet tone.

Lance hesitantly crawled over to him. He knew who Favio was, but he'd never directly interacted with him. When he reached his chair, Favio stood and crouched down to pick Lance up bridal-style. He sat back in his chair and placed Lance on his thighs, letting him sit sideways. Favio wrapped a hand around his waist and whispered in his ear, "I'm sorry this is happening to you."

Lance turned to give him a confused look. He tugged on Lance's leash to pull him back toward his face, "Just hold out a little longer. They're coming for you."

Lance's eyes filled with tears. Favio was the first person to show him kindness- and give him good news. He must have been in touch with Keith somehow. Lance leaned onto Favio's chest, hiding under his neck.

Marble smacked his hand on the table, "Now how do you get it to bow to you?!"

Favio's chest vibrated with a deep, comforting voice. "I've got my methods."

"Man," Marble whined and took a big gulp of his drink. "Whatever, but I get him tonight."

Lance clutched Favio's jacket in fear. He had spent many nights with Marble, and that was the  _last_ place he wanted to be. A small whimper escaped his throat and he let out a single tear. Favio lit another cigarette, "Nah, you got him the last two nights. My turn."

"What?! That's not fair!"

"You wanna fight me for it, punk?"

Marble went silent for a moment, then clicked his teeth in submission. "Fine. Tomorrow then."

"No."

"Come on!"

Basil's whiny voice cut through the air, "Would you guys stop fighting over the whore and play the game?!"

Lance's eyes were heavy and sore from exhaustion. He held onto Favio's shirt with all his strength. Favio looked down at him and spoke quietly to keep the others from hearing. "Just sleep, Lance. I'll protect you."

Lance took a huge risk and put all his trust in this man. It was all he had. The noises of the poker game faded out as Lance finally succumbed to sleep.


	13. The Walk-Out

Lance woke up to Favio sleeping beside him. They lied in a mattress on the carpeted floor. He brought a hand to his face, realizing that the mask had been removed. The room was cold and damp, but a little cleaner than the rest of the base. He took another look at his bedmate before carefully lifting the blankets off and crawling out. Favio's room was covered in various clothing, so Lance helped himself. He put on a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt, and a brown leather jacket. The clothes were big on him, but they would have to do. As he stepped out, he slipped his feet into a pair of boots. The halls were different from the previous base he had been in. They were more comfortable. The building felt more like a house than a prison. An old house, but still a house.

Lance took a few turns down the hall and found the stairs. They were dark wood with rusty gold handrails. With a deep breath, Lance scanned the hallway. His attention was turned back to the stairs. Two options. Escape or fight. If Keith were here, he would probably tell him to fight. He stared at them for a long time, then finally took the stairs up a floor.

From the bits and pieces Lance heard, Zarkon lived on the top floor. His head fogged up, but he shook it to keep it clear. After reaching the top, he paused and sat down. Lance was exhausted, starving, and weak. He didn't have any weapons or any plan. He hugged his knees and choked back tears. He wanted Keith. He wanted his team.

 _Come on Lance, we can do this._ He stood with a grunt and inspected the hallway.  _We just have to find the room and get back to Favio._

Every door looked the same. He almost gave up his search before he saw a larger door with a gold nameplate. There wasn't any name on it, but he could tell that was the one.  _Alright._ He turned and quickly walked back to the stairs, tracking the path.  _We know where he is, we just have to come up with a plan._

Lance hopped down to the floor Favio was on. With a swift spin, he opened the door. When he was safe, he rested his back against the wall and slid down to hug his knees. He was finally able to cry. Pitiful sobs jerked from his chest as tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Did you have a nice adventure?"

Lance raised his head to an awake Favio. He wanted to respond, but only cures exited his throat. Favio took a deep breath, then got up to sit down next to him. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders and brought his head to his jacket. He shushed him, "You're gonna be fine. They're coming."

Lance's skepticism returned, "Who?"

"Hm?"

He sniffled, "Who's coming?"

Favio ruffled his hair and hugged him tighter. "Shiro and Keith."

That was enough for Lance. Favio was a good guy. Lance grabbed his shirt with both fists and rubbed his face into his chest. He cried for a long time, possibly an hour. Even so, Favio stayed and pet his head the whole time.

Lance had finally calmed down and released his hold, wiping his face with his sleeve. "What am I supposed to do?" He locked eyes with him, "When are they coming?"

Favio shook his head, "I don't know."

"Are you really leaving like this?! He's just a boy, Krolia!" Keith's father yelled.

Keith's mother spun around, suitcase in hand. The moonlight filtered through her hair. "David, he's killing animals."

He reached out and took her hand, "He needs his mother right now." He raised his voice when she yanked her hand away. "You don't know how he will turn out."

Krolia huffed, eyes wide and filled with fear. She glanced at Keith's bedroom door. "I refuse to have a psycho as a son."

"Krolia!"

She turned around and slammed the door behind her.

Keith woke up naturally to the morning sun. He sat up in his bed suspiciously. It was strange that his parents wouldn't wake him. He stepped out of bed and got dressed. When he was ready, he cautiously exited his room. He found his father asleep on the couch, bottles littered the floor around him.

Keith walked up to him and climbed up on the couch. He pushed him, "Papa?"

His father groaned and stirred, but didn't wake.

Keith pushed him again, " _Papa?_ "

When he finally opened his eyes, he sat up and grabbed his head. Keith leaned toward him, "Papa? Where's Momma?"

His face dropped and he scanned the room. His breathing increased and he became frantic. Keith scooted back, frightened by his erratic behavior. "Papa?"

He finally locked eyes with Keith. His face held anger and hatred. He pointed to the hall, "Go to your room!"

Keith flinched at the yell and slowly stepped off the couch. After every couple of steps, he would look back only to be greeted with the same hateful expression. Keith eventually reached his door and entered, quietly closing the door behind him as to not anger him more.


	14. The Old Hotel

Keith inspected the building from the outside. An old brick hotel building was their choice of a safe house. "Typical," he spat. He couldn't imagine what Lance was dealing with at that moment. When Keith was first captured, he was locked in a shower for two days. Every few hours, it would turn on and drench him in freezing cold water. What was Lance's first night like?

 _What's your visual?_ Shiro spoke through his earpiece.

"I don't have any visual," Keith carefully scanned every window in the building.

 _Nothing? Is that normal?_ Pidge sounded concerned.

"Not necessarily," Keith explained, "But they could be drinking or playi- oh my god!"

_What?! What happened?!_

A figure passed by the window of the top floor. They scanned their surroundings carefully, dressed in clothes that were obviously too big. Keith knew who it was the moment he laid eyes on them. "I see Lance."

Pidge gasped,  _Really?! Is he alright?!_

"As far as I can tell, he looks okay. But it's strange."

 _What is?_ Shiro asked.

"He's-" Lance stopped as he looked like he found what he was looking for. "He's on the top floor." His heart sunk, "So that could mean a couple things."

_Enough of that. Where is his location exactly?_

"Um, top floor, fifth window from the left."

Shiro's frustrated breaths could be heard through the earpiece.  _Keith, this is your call. Do we proceed with the original plan or do you want to change it?_

Keith thought for a minute. If they stuck to the original plan, then they would get the bombs planted easier. If they changed it and made Lance top priority, then they may not get Zarkon. He gritted his teeth, "Stick to the original plan. This ends tonight."

 _Alright, I'm in position._ Shiro motioned to him from across the lot.

Keith signaled back, "Copy that. Same here."

Pidge giggled,  _Alright! Proceed to your routes. There's nothing showing up along the way, but be cautious._

Keith took one more look up at Lance. He had turned around and headed back down the hall. When he couldn't see him anymore, Keith started his mission.

Bomb were strategically placed throughout the building. The plan was to burn the building down, blowing up the Galra with it. Zarkon was confirmed to be in the building. With his death, Keith and Lance would finally find peace. Keith paused as he was placing a bomb in the first floor stairwell. Would they really be at peace when Zarkon is dead? He shook the thought out of his head. It didn't matter. The first step was to rescue Lance. If he didn't make it, then Keith wouldn't either.

 _Can we die?_ Keith hadn't really thought about it. When they kiss, their wounds heal. When Lance brought him back in the fire, Keith wasn't dead yet. He didn't want to test it.  _I need to find him._ "Shiro, I've got the first floor done, moving onto the second floor."

_Wait, Keith._

He stopped, "What is it?"

Shiro paused, like he was hesitating.  _Go find your husband._

Keith's eyebrows raised in surprise, "What?"

 _I haven't been the best person to you. Both in work and after Lance._ He sighed.  _He loves you, you know that, right?_

Keith was stunned. Shiro was never like that.

 _Lance is a good guy. I know we don't get along, but he really is the best person for you. I guess I was jealous._ He grunted, planting his row of bombs.  _I saw myself in him, my old self._

Keith scanned the first floor for any sign of Galra.

 _You know when you were taken, Lance cried and cried. He just hit my chest and screamed at me for letting you go._ He laughed, but there was a hint of sorrow.  _Lance- he- Lance is the most stubborn, loving, hardworking, and difficult person I've ever met. I think he fell in love with you the second you_ _guys looked into each other's eyes. Do you remember that? When you-_

"When I asked for his name." Keith finished. "In the hotel room." A tear slipped down his cheek, "He was bloody and scared, but the moment I looked at his beautiful eyes-" he struggled to find the words. "It was like the world melted away. His eyes- they hold the universe in them."

_You fell in love with him right then, too._

"I wasn't aware of it, but yeah," he chuckled, "I was hopelessly in love with him from that moment."

_Go get him. I will finish up here._

Keith wiped his cheeks, "Thank you, Shiro."

Keith sprinted up the stairs. He had no idea where Lance was, but Favio lived on the second floor. He was probably there. When he reached the floor, he practically jumped over to Favio's door. Without bothering to knock, he opened it.

But nothing could have prepared him for the events of that night.


	15. The Connection

They stared at each other for a few moments, registering the sight. Lance slowly stood, wide blue eyes staring into purple. He finally established his voice after a long wait. "Keith?" He couldn't believe his eyes. Did his body just give up and go crazy? Was he so hungry that his eyes played tricks on him?

Keith's breathing deepened, "Lance?"

"Keith?"

"Lance?"

"Keith!" Lance jumped on him, wrapping his arms over his shoulders.

Keith lifted him by his waist and kissed his hair, "Oh Lance!"

Favio stood with a grunt as he commented on their interaction. "What a touching reunion."

Lance turned around and gave him a nod, "Thank you. For saving my life."

He smiled and gave a half-hearted wave, "It's no problem for a fellow brother."

Keith hugged Lance's head, "Thank you, Favio. I owe you everything."

He laughed, "I'll hold you to it."

Lance pulled away and grabbed Keith's wrists, "We need to go."

"Ah, keep in mind," Favio pointed at Lance, "he's really weak. I'm sure you can imagine."

Keith gave him a somber nod, "Yeah, I can." He turned back to Lance and handed him an earpiece, "Let's go."

They ran out of the room and into the stairwell. Keith almost led them down, but Lance stopped him when he heard Galra members. Instead, they went up. Keith spoke into his earpiece, "Shiro what's your status?"

_Bombs are planted. We're waiting for you. Where- where are you?_

"I've got Lance, but we've run into a few Galra. We were forced to go up instead of down."

_Keith that was a terrible idea._

"Well, we did, so help me out!"

Pidge chimed in,  _Alright, there's four floors. You are approaching the third floor. Go in there if it's safe._

Lance ran up to the door and peeked through the window. He quickly jumped back, "It's not!"

_Okay, don't panic. You're gonna need to go on the roof. Coran is on his way, and the roof is clear._

Keith and Lance shared a nod, grabbed each other's hand, and continued up. When they approached the stairs to the roof, they heard Galra by the door. Keith informed Pidge. "Shit, Pidge. We're trapped."

_Dammit! Okay, your only choice is to go in the fourth floor. Be careful!_

They carefully entered the hallway of the top floor, checking for Galra. No members were in sight. Lance tiptoed around the hall, "Keith this isn't right, there should be-" Lance yelped as a bullet tore through his right calf, bringing him to the ground.

"Lance!" Keith tugged him back behind the doorway of the stairwell.

Lance muttered pitiful 'ow's as they dodged more bullets. Keith pulled out the gun on his thigh and shot back. "Lance, are you okay?!"

"I'll be fine!" More shots cut through the air, zipping past and burying themselves in the walls. Lance yelled into his earpiece, "Pidge! What do we do?!"

_I don't know!_

Keith called out as his gun clicked, "Damn it! I'm out!" He stuffed it back into its holster, "Pidge! What's the next step?!"

_I don't know!_

Keith ruffled his hair with a frustrated groan. "Shiro?! Shiro are you there?!"

Lance waited but there was no answer. "Pidge, what do we do?"

_Fucking hell! I don't know, dammit!_

Everyone brainstormed for a way out of there. After a few seconds, Keith spoke up. "Pidge, how close is Coran?!"

_Umm...he's six minutes out._

"That'll have to do," Keith muttered. He grabbed Lance's wrist, "Come on, we're going to the roof!"

"But-" Lance couldn't answer before Keith pulled him up and through the door. When he turned the corner, he threw his knife into one of the Galra members. The other didn't have any time to grab his gun before Keith stabbed him as well.

They burst through the doors to the roof, wind hitting them like a wave. Lance turned around and scanned the landscape, but he couldn't spot Coran. "Keith, what do we do?!"

Keith stopped to stare at the ground. His face was filled with fear and confusion. Lance moved his hair away from his face, which was useless in the wind.

_"Keith, my son," he placed his hands on Keith's shoulders, "Do you know where your mother went?"_

Lance yelled at him, trying to get him out of his thoughts.

_Krolia huffed, eyes wide and filled with fear. She glanced at Keith's bedroom door. "I refuse to have a psycho as a son."_

"Keith!"

_Keith gasped in realization, "It's name is Dirt!"_

_"Dirt," his father repeated with a chuckle. He turned to Keith's mother, "His name is Dirt."_

Lance called out desperately, "Pidge! Shiro!"

_"Hmm," Lance trailed off. He felt the warm air and beating sun. It was comforting to him. "Papa?"_

_He leaned back down to continue his work, "Yes, m'ijo?"_

_He stared out at the Cuban landscape. A small, black cat trotted around the dirt. "Do you like cats?"_

"Keith please!"

_Blood soaked into the floor. Lance never received an answer to his screams. Tears spilled out of his eyes, "Mama! Papa!"_

"Kei-"

_She watched the cat with horror as it twitched and convulsed. Soon, Dirt stopped moving._

_"Papa!"_

_"Momma?"_

"Keith!"

Keith was brought out of his trance in an instant. His ears flattened to a ring and his world slowed. "September 12th."

Lance barely heard him through his earpiece. "What?!"

Keith ignored him, "September 12th. 3:04pm. 4:04pm. Four years old."

Lance stared at him in confusion, waiting for an explanation.

Keith took a deep breath and opened his mouth. "Pidge?"

_Yes?_

"Burn it down."


	16. The Story

"Caleb! Come get your breakfast!"

Caleb looked up from the diary and toward the attic stairs. Boxes surrounded him, their contents spilling onto the floor. He tied his grey-brown hair into a messy bun and looked out the window. Rays of sunlight were visible in the dusty attic, casting a window mark over the wood floor.

"You're gonna be late!"

"I'm coming!" He called back, adjusting his red jacket back onto his shoulders. He picked up the journal again and turned the page. His face dropped in frustration, "No!"

The writing stopped abruptly, right at the climax. "Come on," Caleb whined.

"Caleb!"

"I'm  _coming_!" He shoved the book into his backpack and climbed down the attic stairs, taking one last look at the dim room.

The house was filled with the smell of bacon and pancakes. Caleb filled his lungs with it, then slipped down the stairs with a smile. "Dad! Did you make-" He was greeted with a plate of chocolate chip pancakes as soon as he entered the kitchen. "Thanks, Dad."

"My pleasure, Kai." He turned back to the stove to flip more of the pancakes.

A small girl tugged at his father's grey sweater, jumping up and down impatiently. "Mama! Mama!"

He laughed at her, "I'm getting it, Liliana!"

Caleb ruffled his sister's hair and joined his Dad at the breakfast table. He lowered the newspaper he was holding to greet him, "Your hair is getting long."

The compliment brought a warm feeling to his chest. He admired his father's bun of shiny raven hair. "I want it to be like yours."

He chuckled, "It's lookin' good." His grey purple eyes sparkled at him.

Caleb happily shoveled his food into his mouth and chugged his milk.

"Caleb, let's go." He turned to find his father helping Liliana put her shoes on. "We have to drop her off at Aunt Katie's house."

He snatched his backpack and high-fived his Dad, then headed out the door.

Aunt Pidge gave him a fist-bump when they dropped his sister off. "Stay cool, my dude."

When they pulled up to George R. High, Caleb rested his hand on the door handle. He hesitated, unsure if he should bring it up. His father gave him a questioning look, "What's wrong, Kai?"

"Um," he sat back and reached into his backpack. "I wasn't trying to snoop, but I found this." He pulled out the worn leather journal.

His father stared at the journal in disbelief. It was like he struggled to react. He tore his eyes away and locked them with Caleb's. "Did you read it?"

"Yeah," he continued cautiously, "But there isn't an ending and yours and Dad's and Aunt Pidge's names are in it and I just-" he stopped when he realized how strange his father looked.

He took in a shaky breath, then drove out of the school parking lot. Caleb's chest ached, thinking he was about to get in trouble. He kept his head down until the car stopped. When his father jumped out of the car, he followed, finding they stopped at a coffee shop. Looking both ways, he skipped across the parking lot to stay close to his dad.

The smell of cinnamon and coffee permeated the air. Various adults- some in business suits, some in casual clothes- hurriedly retrieved their drinks and exited the shop. His father tapped his hand on the counter, "Shiro! Coran!"

A taller man with a ginger mustache appeared from behind the counter. His face lit up as he saw Caleb's father, "Lance! What's the occasion?"

Another man appeared behind him, draping a prosthetic arm over Coran's shoulder. Caleb recognized the names from the journal, and he slowly put the pieces together. His dad crossed his arms with a long sigh, "It's time. Could you get us a few cups of coffee?"

"Oh," Coran's face dropped, "I see."

Shiro eyed Caleb, "We can do that."

"Thank you." He turned to his son, "Follow me."

Caleb was led to the back of the coffee shop, finding a seat at a small table. He sat across from his father. After a few moments of silence, he opened his timid mouth. "Um, Dad? Am I in trouble?"

"What?" He looked up from his phone, "No, of course not." A smile lit up his face as his fingers tapped away at the screen, "I'm just bragging to your father that you asked me."

Coran and Shiro set down two large white mugs in front of them. Coran gave them a warm smile, "If you need anything, we're here."

They left the two boys alone. Caleb took a small sip from his mug, "So, I just-" he lifted his head and puffed his chest confidently, "I want to know the ending."

His father's piercing blue eyes smirked at him from behind his coffee cup. "Kai, do you remember your life before we adopted you?"

He tried to recollect his thoughts, then shook his head. "Just bits and pieces."

His eyes dropped as he remembered the story, "When you were five, I actually helped you."

"Oh!" Caleb pulled out the book and skimmed through the pages. He pointed to a passage, "Is that me?"

His dad glanced at it, then gave him a warm nod. "Yes, 'the boy' is you."

"Wait," his face dropped in realization, "But that would mean-"

"The story is true." He let Caleb absorb the reveal. "You see, the story was written by your father and I. It's the story of how we met."

Caleb laughed in disbelief, "That's- But that's impossible! That would mean the you're-" he trailed off, pointing at his father.

"Caleb 'Kai' McKogane, it's nice to meet you." He held out his hand, "My name is Lance McClain, and I'm the Hellhound."

His face dropped in amazement, unable to process the thought.

"You want to hear the end?" He took a sip of his coffee, "I think you're ready for the truth."


	17. The End: Part One

"Keith, are you crazy?!" Lance shook him by the shoulders.

Keith held his cheeks in his hands, "Lance, just trust me."

_Keith, I can't just set them off with you guys in there!_

"You're gonna have to!" Keith ran to the side of the roof and inspected the ground. "Where's Coran?"

_Four minutes out!_

Keith shook his head, "We can't wait that long."

Lance limped to his side and looked to the ground. He couldn't understand what Keith was thinking. There were no bodies of water. No cushion. No way. "Keith, how the hell are we gonna do that?!"

He ignored him, "Pidge, which way is the building gonna fall?"

_If it doesn't fall perfectly down, then it will fall to the northwest._

Keith jogged over to the opposite side, "Alright." He stared at the ground for a while, "Shiro?! Are you there?!"

There was no answer.

Lance sighed, "I hope he's okay."

"He'll be fine." He ran back to Lance and grabbed his face, "Alright, when we jump, keep close to me. As long as we are together, our chances of survival are almost 100%."

He softly grabbed Keith's wrists, "Keith, you're scaring me."

"Relax your muscles, bend your knees slightly, don't hit your head."

Lance's eyes teared up and he shook his head. The pounding of the roof door caught their attention.

"Damn it!" He kissed Lance to take care of his leg, "When you hit the ground, land on your feet. Immediately after you land, roll your body to the side. There's gonna be a lot of dust and debris, so be careful."

"Keith, please."

More door pounding filled the air. Keith kept Lance's face away from it, "You can do it, I know you can. I love you so much." He rested their foreheads together, "Do you trust me?"

Lance let out a frightened sob and held his cheek with a shaky hand, "We're a team, remember?"

He brought him into a hug, "Pidge! Set them off!"

_But-_

"Take this building down!"

_...Okay. Bombs set to go off in five,_

Keith readied his stance, setting the reluctant Lance up as well.

_Four_

Keith gave Lance's hand one last squeeze, then let go.

_Three_

The doors to the roof finally gave in, bringing out attacking Galra members.

_Two_

Keith ran forward, "Go!"

Lance followed closely beside him, heart pounding and head spinning.

_One._

Loud booms shook the building, going from one side to the other. Keith and Lance jumped from the roof just as it started to give out. Large clouds of smoke burst through the air, engulfing them in grey. Pieces of the walls and brick flew through the air, bringing smoke behind them. Flames appeared between the collapsing floors; screaming came with them.

Lance's stomach dropped with his body, he kept his muscles relaxed and followed Keith's instructions. Even with the advice, when he touched the ground he landed incorrectly. His left knee was shot with an excruciatingly sharp pain. His body rolled to the side through the debris. He covered his head as he slowed down. Adrenaline kept him from feeling half of the pain in his body, but it felt like he was witnessing all of it. Thick wind hammered his back and hit him with various items. When the loud crashing quieted down, Lance opened his eyes and immediately recoiled at the pain in his leg. He hesitantly lowered his eyes to see the damage. Through the thick blanket of grey, he could see a pool of blood under his leg. Bone stuck through his knee, piercing his skin.

He tore his eyes away and covered his mouth. Smoke had filled his lungs and coated his throat. Keith was nowhere to be seen. Did they land close to each other? It was impossible to tell with the darkness of the dusty smoke. He pushed himself up, coughing and hacking. After dragging himself a few feet, he fell to the side. There was no way he could move with his leg in that condition. The more he moved, the more he bled. Tears of panic and hurt fell down his cheeks. Lance mentally prepared himself for death. With the last of his strength, he called out. "Keith!"

He didn't hear an answer.

"Keith!" He gasped for breath, "Where the hell are you?"

"-ance"

Lance turned his head to the side as he heard a voice through the debris. "Keith?!"

A figure appeared through the fog, running up to him. Lance furrowed his brows, "Shiro?!"

"Hey Lance," he inspected his injuries and gave him a bandana, "Put this on and prepare yourself. I'm carrying you out."

He tied the bandana around his head like Shiro had his, "But my leg is-"

"Yeah, I know." He laced a hand under his back and knees, "This is gonna hurt like hell."

Lance's skin tore as his leg bent. He screamed at the pain as Shiro picked him up and hurried to the side. Lance wished that he would just pass out from the pain, but he didn't. When he was finally set down, he opened his eyes. He lied on the metal floor of Coran's helicopter. He quickly scanned the space for Keith, but didn't find him. He locked eyes with Shiro, "Where's Keith?!"

"I don't know, I found you first." He stood and adjusted his bandana, "I'm going back in to get him."

"You need to hurry," Coran started, "Lance won't last long."

He gave Coran a nod, then turned to leave.

"Wait!" Coran called after him with a raised hand.

Shiro turned back to him.

He lowered his arm, "It's dangerous out there. Please be careful."

He gave Coran a soft smile and stepped back over to him. With a hand on the bottom of his chin, he kissed his hair softly. "I'll be careful." He pulled away and jumped out of the helicopter, "And I will bring Keith back!"

Lance coughed up blood as he felt the weight of his crushed ribs. Coran took off his belt and used it as a tourniquet on Lance's thigh. The full amount of pain Lance was in hit him like a bomb. Everything hurt. Everywhere was bleeding or bruised. He knew he wasn't going to last long if Shiro didn't find Keith soon.

"Coran," Lance coughed out.

"Yes, my boy?"

"If I don't make it out of here alive," he held up his hand to look at his ring, "Tell Keith I love him. And I'm not mad."

Coran's bottom lip quivered, "Okay, I will."

Lance relaxed and thought back on his life. The majority of it was spent being scared. What a life to live. He almost let his body drift off until he heard Coran's voice.

"Shiro doesn't hate you, you know."

He turned to look in his eyes with a weak gaze, "What?"

"Shiro doesn't hate you. He actually admires you."

"I doubt that," Lance coughed.

"It's true," Coran started bandaging up Lance's bloody wounds, "He was jealous at first, but he started to like your fire. He truly does think you are the best person for Keith."

"Regardless of the fact that we're literally soulmates?"

Coran laughed, "Yeah, I was personally sold when Keith came back. I knew you guys were meant to be together."

Lance wheezed a few breaths, "Hey Coran?"

"Yes?"

"What was Keith like as a kid? Did you know him?"

Coran's smile dropped, "Yes, I did. Not very well, but I learned his backstory when I became involved with the team." He moved onto another wound, "Keith's mother left him when he was very young. He was...four I think. I'm not sure why, but Keith was raised by his father until he was sixteen. Then, he ran away and stayed with Shiro. That's when I met him."

A tear dropped down the side of Lance's face, "That's so sad." His face suddenly brightened when he remembered Keith's words. "September 12th. 3:04pm. 4:04pm. Four years old."

"What?"

Lance locked eyes with Coran, "Do any of those mean anything to you?"

Coran thought about it for a few moments, "No, should they?"

"It's something Keith said. I just," he trailed off. "I feel like they should mean something to me."

"They don't?"

"No." Lance coughed a couple more times. "Wait." His breathing increased, pushing harder on his ribs, "September 12th was the day I- the day my parents died."

"Guys!" Shiro burst through the fog and jumped into the helicopter. "Coran, Get us in the air!"

"Roger that!" He jumped up and went to the cockpit.

A broken Keith was placed next to Lance. His eyes were closed and Lance was unsure if he was breathing. Keith's arm crossed Lance's as they lied side by side. Lance called out to him, "Keith?!"

The helicopter lifted, wind blowing their clothes and hair around. "Keith?!"

Lance saw shallow breaths raise his chest. "Keith!" He pulled his body up to bring him close.

Keith groaned, "Lance."

Lance rested his head on the metal of the helicopter floor and wrapped his arm around Keith's neck. "I'm right here." He pulled him into a tender kiss, then let his head fall back down. His vision faded out as he stared at Keith's empty face.


	18. The End: Part Two

When Lance woke up, the first thing he saw was Keith's face. They were in their bed back at the apartment, lying with the other's hand on their cheek. The room was dim, but he could tell the sun was out. He groaned and sat up, pulling the blanket off his leg. It was healed.  _Thank god._  He looked back at Keith.

Keith was sleeping soundly; his chest rose and fell slowly, almost dreamlike. Lance negotiated with himself- should he stay with Keith or see what happened while they were asleep? In the end, he lifted the blanket off and stood up. He noticed he was dressed in his boxers and an oversized white t-shirt. Ignoring the strangeness of the situation, he exited their room.

He peeked around the corner to find Katie sitting on the couch, typing on her computer; Shiro was on his phone with Coran leaning on his chest. Lance took a timid step and let out a small voice. "Hello?"

Katie and Shiro immediately looked up at him. Pidge tossed her computer on the table and ran over to hug him. Shiro woke Coran and they joined her.

Katie cried into his shirt, "I'm so sorry!"

"Hey," Lance pet her hair, "don't be. I'm just fine."

They let go of Lance to ruffle his hair or pat his back. Coran rested a hand on his shoulder, "Would you like something to eat?"

Everyone sat at the dining table, watching Lance eat a bowl of tomato soup. He took a sip, "You guys are creepy."

"We're just happy you're back!" Pidge jumped up.

"Does, um," Lance scratched his head. "Does anyone want to tell me what happened? How long have I been asleep?"

Coran stepped in, "You and Keith have been asleep for three days. We've all stayed here until you two woke."

Lance turned to look toward the bedroom, "Is he okay?"

Shiro sighed, "We're not sure how injured Keith was. Hopefully, he should wake up soon."

Lance took a few breaths, "Thank you guys, really. But-"

Everyone gave him worried and curious looks. He cleared his throat, "But do you mind leaving me alone with Keith?"

Pidge opened her mouth to protest, but quickly shut it. Shiro tapped their shoulders and shrugged. He gave Lance a friendly smile, "Sure. Call us when he's up."

"I will."

Lance lied back in bed hugged Keith to his chest. Keith slept for a few more hours, but he eventually woke with a groan. Lance let him go and got up.

Keith rubbed his forehead with his palm and sat up, "What. Uh, Lance?"

Lance grabbed his face and kissed him deeply, "Yeah, I'm here."

Keith wrapped his arms around Lance's shoulders. "I love you."

Lance snickered, "I know." He nuzzled his head into Keith's neck, "I love you, too."

They pulled away and stared into each other's eyes. Keith stroked Lance's cheek with the back of his fingers. "Are you okay?"

Lance flashed him a warm smile, "I am now."

Keith leaned in to his face, but hesitated. "Is this al-"

Lance pulled him into a passionate kiss and maneuvered his way onto his lap.

"Ew! Dad!" Caleb whined with a scrunched up face, "Skip that!"

Lance laughed at his son, "I'm just messing with you, Kai!"

"It was a great day, though," Keith leaned over to kiss Lance's temple, holding a cup of coffee in his free hand.

"Oh my god, please stop!" Caleb covered his face and leaned onto the table.

Keith and Lance laughed for a while until Lance continued, "Alright, alright! Let's get back on track."

A few days after Keith woke, they met up with everyone. Pidge played computer games with Lance; Keith played football with everyone; Shiro and Coran even disclosed their engagement. They all joked with each other while sitting around the living room.

"So, guys." Pidge leaned onto her knees, "What's your plan now? Any more missions?"

"I think I'm done," Keith held his hands up in exaggerated relief. He held a bottle in one hand.

"Actually," Lance started, "There's one more thing I have to do."

Lance slowed his breathing as he looked through the sight on his sniper. The small room filled with a ray of light as a man entered, stumbling toward the little boy's bed in his drunken state. He wasn't getting away that time.

"You know when." Keith encouraged him.

Lance took in a breath and held it. The man was down before he stepped foot in the bedroom. Lance smirked, "I got him." He turned to Keith, "Call the police."

"Got it," he picked up a burner phone and played an automated message onto the mic. After it was done, he crushed the phone. "Let's go."

Lance stood and put his gun away. He took one more look back at the window. A small figure stood with their hand to the glass. After staring at each other for a while, Lance gave him a two-finger salute. The boy waved back in thanks.

Caleb leaned onto the table, "I don't even remember that."

"Don't try to," Keith patted his shoulder, "It's all in the past."

"So," Caleb started, trailing off. He brought his hands up and laced his fingers together. "I have a question."

Lance motioned to the group. "We're listening." Coran and Shiro leaned against the wall; Pidge played with Liliana from a café chair; Keith and Lance sat across from their son.

"Uh," he laughed in wonder, "What ever happened to Favio? Is he still around?"

Keith chuckled. "Actually-" he pointed to Caleb, "That's where you come in."

Caleb walked up to the stage with his purple hood hiding his eyes. He knelt down onto one knee and rested a fist on the ground.

Favio was dressed in deep purple with various drapes over his shoulders and a mask on his face. He presented a custom knife to the audience by holding it up.

Shiro, Coran, Pidge, Lance, and Keith all stood to watch the ceremony. Other members watched from the opposite side.

Favio lowered the knife and spoke in an authoritative voice. "Caleb 'Kai' McKogane." He took a dramatic pause. "Do you accept this blade along with the knowledge and skill it possesses?"

"I accept." Caleb's voice was sharp, but laced with excitement.

"Do you accept responsibility for the blade?"

"I accept."

"Do you accept the responsibility of your team and missions?"

"I accept."

"Do you, Caleb 'Kai' McKogane, accept membership to the Blade of Marmora?"

He paused to smile, "I accept!"

"Then rise. Take your blade and join your team."

Keith leaned toward Lance with one hand in his suit pocket and one holding a cup. He talked over the music of the party. "Hey Lance?"

"Hmm?" He was taking a drink of the punch as he replied.

"Do you think Zarkon died with that building?"

Lance's smile faltered, but quickly returned. He took a deep breath to stretch his lungs and raised his eyes to watch his family. Caleb was chatting happily with his new team members. They ruffled his hair and gave him friendly smiles and handshakes. Shiro leaned against a wall as he talked to Coran, showing off his hair and formal suit. Katie admired the technology that the Blade possessed, talking with various scientists and engineers.

Lance drank the last of his drink in one quick shot. He sucked a breath in through his teeth, "No." He lowered his hand with the cup in it, tapping his index finger on the rim. "No, I don't."

"Yeah," Keith took a drink, "me either."


	19. Extra Content: The Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This extra scene takes place between The Color of Death is Blue and The Color of Life is Red. It is the full scene of the preview at the end of the first book.

"Guys!" Pidge burst into the apartment with her laptop above her head. "I've got a new assignment!" She jumped over the back of the couch and sat down.

"Pidge." Keith looked over at her from above Lance on the coffee table. His shirt had been ripped off. Dog tags hung jingling from his neck. Lance's arms were wrapped around his shoulders and laced into his hair. Keith motioned to the half-naked couple, "We're kinda busy."

Pidge kept her eyes on the computer screen and waved an unfazed hand. "Yeah, yeah. Stop fucking and come here."

Lance gave him a shrug and sat them up. He joined her on the couch while Keith looked over her shoulder. Lance slipped his shirt back on, "What did you find Katie?"

Pidge adjusted her glasses and tapped away on her keyboard, "So I've received some intel on a certain party happening on the coast." She pulled up a document on her screen, "This is the guest list." She scrolled through it. "It's a ploy. Everyone going is involved with sex trafficking, which is exactly what's going to happen."

Lance sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "Damn. It's that big?"

"Oh yeah," She nodded and clicked on a file. Several pictures of a man with a greying beard popped up. "This is the host. Ricardo Déga." Pidge sat back and crossed her arms with a smirk, "The party is at his building. On the rooftop."

"So," Keith stood straight and crossed his arms, "We're gonna crash this party."

Lance gasped, "Does this mean we get to go to a party?!"

Pidge whipped out her hand. Two black cards sat between her middle and index fingers. "Here's your tickets in."

Lance and Keith dusted off their finest suits and retrieved the black Mercedes out of the garage. Lance was dressed in a black suit with a blue shirt and black tie. A gold Rolex wrapped around his wrist. Keith slicked his hair back and put on a black suit with a red shirt and black tie. Pistols were hidden beneath their clothes and earpieces sat in their ears.

They pulled up to the building and handed the keys over to the valet. Waving their black cards, they stepped into the elevator and headed up. Keith informed Katie when the doors shut. "Pidge, there's two guards by the doors of the elevator and a valet at the entrance."

_I've tapped into the security cameras. Received visual on you._

"Can you see this?" Keith flipped off the camera with a smirk.

_Fuck you too, asshat._

"Shut up," Lance giggled, "We're almost at the top."

The doors opened to an elegant rooftop with sparkling guests. A crowded bar was over on the right; lounge chairs to the left, surrounding a small stage. White rooftop tile reflected the glittering stars and blue aura from the pool. A small shed sat behind the chairs, the stage branches off it. Various guests chatted around the deck, drinks in hand. Some were men. They wore suits and expensive watches–or had the nerve to put on a fedora. Most were women. Tight silver dresses hugged their curves while diamond jewelry jingled around their necks and ears. Spanish music blasted over the speakers, bringing a smile to Lance's face.

Lance and Keith found themselves a spot by the pool. Lance faced Keith while he scooped out the party guests. "Are you getting this?"

_Yeah, I'm checking all faces. So far, they're all involved. Keep your position until I give you the word._

"Understood." Lance smiled and threaded his hand into Keith's, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

Keith leaned back, "What are you doing? We don't know how they–!"

Lance tapped his shoulder and motioned over to a gay couple by the bar. Then a lesbian couple within a group of people. "They're fine with it." He shrugged, "It looks like they've got a lot of woman buyers and gay men. I'm guessing their slaves are mostly boys."

Keith nodded and turned back toward him, "Good investigating."

Lance clicked his teeth and shook his head. "Sick fuckers."

Keith wrapped an arm over his shoulder and led him toward the bar, "Would you like a drink, my love?"

Lance leaned into the touch, "Of course, my love." He giggled, "I love alcohol with blood."

Keith slammed his hand on the counter, catching the attention of the bartender. "Two margaritas." He turned and kissed the side of Lance's head as they waited.

As they received their drinks, loud cheering erupted from a crowd by the pool. Lance directed his attention toward the door of the shed. A large, muscular man with a black mask held a thin boy by his hair. He dragged him across the stage and sat him on his knees. The boy looked no more than fifteen years old. Tan skin. Long black hair. He was cleaned and dressed in small black boxers and a spaghetti-string black tank top.

"And the show starts." Keith took a sip of his drink and leaned back to watch.

Lance leaned into his chest. "Pidge, you got ID ready?"

_Already_ _on_ _it. The one with long hair is Adahy Cates. Fifteen years old. He's been missing for three months._

Another boy was brought out and placed next to Adahy. He had light skin and a curly blond mop of hair. He was in matching clothes.

_That's Spencer Mace. Fourteen. A year missing._

A boy with dark skin and shaved hair was brought out.

_Artyom Fae. Sixteen years old. Three months._

The next was a tiny Asian boy with a bowl cut.

 _Shit._ Pidge huffed,  _That's Makoto Aiza. He's only ten! Missing for almost five months now._

One more boy. Olive skin and short black hair. All of them were dressed uniformly.

_Bai Zhao. Twelve years old. Missing for six months._

Lance did his best to hide his disgust. He would never understand what the fuck was wrong with these people.

Pidge scoffed in disbelief,  _Shit guys. They've got kids from all over. Listen to this. Adahy Cates is Native American. Spencer Mace is British. Artyom Fae is Russian. Makoto Aiza is Japanese. Bai Zhao is Chinese. They are all from different countries!_

"I told you this was big," Keith sipped his drink and kissed Lance's cheek. "Have you located Déga?"

_He's over in the_ _right_ _corner–your left. He's wearing a sparkly dark grey tie and brown shoes._

Keith nonchalantly turned his head, "Spotted. When can we raise hell?"

_Wait for the hostages to return inside the shed. The guys with them should stay outside the door. Be careful, he's got a gun._

Lance took a drink, "How many armed?"

_Not many, actually. You've got the two guys downstairs, the slave handler, and two guys on either end of the roof. Their all wearing red ties and silver watches. They made it easy._

"No other guns?"

_Nope. That's it._

Finally, the boys were taken back into the shed. Keith took Lance's glass and set both on the bar. "Ready, Pidge?"

_Affirmative. You're alright to fire in thirty._

Lance reached his hand back to grip the handle of his pistol. "I've got the handler and the guard next to the pool."

"No, babe." Keith hid his gun behind Lance's back. "I'll get the handler. You just take care of the guy at the pool and raising hell." He lifted Lance's chin to kiss him. "Can't let you have all the fun."

"Fine. Pidge?"

_Go in three._

Lance pulled his gun out to hide it behind his thigh.

_Two._

He took a couple glances at his target.

_Fire away._

Keith and Lance jumped out of the shelter of the crowded bar and took down their targets. After his guy was down, Lance shot up in the air. All the guests covered their heads and dropped down. He shouted over the bullets, "Pidge?! We good?!"

_Affirmative. Go!_

"Keith, ready?!"

"Always." Keith whipped out his signature AR-15 and rained down on the guests of the party. Screaming only lasted for a few minutes as they were all gunned down. Blood pooled over the sparkling white tile and splattered in the walls. After what seemed like mere seconds, the gunfire stopped.

The only sounds left were the whimpers of the boys in the shed. Lance stepped over the bodies to snatch the keys and unlock the door. He put his gun away and entered with hands held wide. "Hey guys."

The boys were huddled together with Artyom in front to guard as the oldest. Chances were that most didn't speak English. Lance turned to lock eyes with the British boy. "Spencer."

His eyes widened as he cowered back.

"It's okay," he knelt down, "I'm not here to hurt you. We're here to take you guys home." He motioned to the door, "They're all gone now, so you're safe."

He spoke up in a shaky voice, "Who are you?"

Lance placed his hands on his chest. "I'm called Hellhound." Keith stepped inside with his gun across his chest. Lance gave him a disappointed glare and signed for him to put his gun away. Keith held up his hands and pointed the gun at the ceiling. Lance motioned to him, "This is my partner, Lucifer."

Spencer pushed himself back more as his body started to shake.

"I know, I know." Lance chuckled, "We have scary names. That's because they were given to us by the bad guys." He held out a hand, "Will you come with us?"

All the boys looked to Spencer. He slowly stood and walked toward Lance, hesitantly taking his hand when he was close enough.

Lance smiled at him, "Can you tell your friends to follow us?"

Spencer turned around and nodded at them, then motioned for them to follow. They stood and followed their friend.

Lance stood, "Pidge, you here?"

_I'm ready downstairs. Keith got the guys by the elevator, so you can send them down._

"Alright, you know what to do." Lance explained the situation to Spencer and sent them down to Pidge.

Lance sat in the comfy lounge chair and gazed up at the stars. They shimmered through the clouds, winking down to him. The cool summer night air stroked his face and walked along the large deck. His eyes lowered to the glittering pool in front of him. It gave off a blue aura onto the white of the rooftop. A smirk crept onto Lance's face as he sat up and removed his clothes. When he was stripped down to his boxers, a voice sounded from behind him.

"I'm liking the new look," Keith strut over to him with champagne in both hands. He held a glass out for Lance, "For you, my love."

Lance took it with a blushing smile, "Why thank you, my love." He took a small sip, then set it on the small table to his right.

Keith took a seat in the chair next to him, drinking from his own as he watched him stand. Lance's feet pattered the rooftop tile as he danced toward the pool. Taking a cheeky look over his shoulder, he slowly pulled down his underwear. He fluffed his hair with a sexy head shake and took dramatic steps into the cool water, swinging his hips. He turned around to face Keith and let his body fall back, keeping his head above the water.

Keith leaned his elbow on the table next to him as he sipped his champagne, staring at Lance intently. Lance licked his lips and swam to the edge, crossing his arms onto the tile. He leaned his head down and batted his eyelashes, "You wanna join?"

Keith shot him a seductive smile, then stood to strip. As he hopped in, Lance drifted back.

Keith reached for him with a chuckle, "Come here."

Lance shot him a playful smirk then dipped his head under. He kicked through the water, moving away from him. With a breath, he brushed back his wet hair and wiped him eyes. Two arms suddenly wrapped around his waist, lifting him up with a laugh. "Keith! Put me down!"

Keith returned him to water and spun his hips to face him. Lance rested his arms around his neck and gazed into his dark purple eyes. With a giggle, he pulled him into a heated kiss. Keith's hands felt around Lance's thighs, pulling them around him. Lance's back hit the wall of the pool and something brushed against his shoulder. He pulled away from Keith to stare at the bloody arm hanging over the edge.

He pouted and leaned onto Keith's chest, "Ah, he ruined it."

Keith's chest resonated with a laugh, "Oh well. Let's head back and continue this at home, yeah?"

He picked his chest up to kiss Keith's nose, then returned to his position with a cute smile. "Okay."

Lance's eyes scanned the tile roof as Keith carried him out of the water. Bodies from the party were littered across the ground, some draped over lounge chairs or resting on shards of broken glass. Every hand seemed to clutch a glass bottle or red cup. Blood splattered the area, pooling around the once sparkling floor and permeating the air. A stream of red dropped into the clear water, slowly turning it a shade of faded pink.

With a happy sigh, Lance closed his eyes to relax. "We got them."

Keith's chest resonated with a chuckle, "We always do."


End file.
